The evening arrived, with the stars dotting the sky, and a purple fog fringing it. Above that, the sky turned pink and dark blue in a gradient, continuing until it reached the moon. From there, only silver remained.
The lake turned dark, remaining that way as they lay on the boat, looking at the stars. Pnoaphales seemed close, only a few more pushes of the paddle, and then onto the shore. Only a few more hours until Pnoaphales came until he'd meet the Prophet. Gone from the Nalrath, and its horrors. Gone away from the Plague, and its terrors. Onto Pnoaphales.
David shivered in the frigidity of the lake. The sun's heat had faded away, the moon had taken it away, replacing it with cold instead.
He looked down and watched it glow blue. It lightened, sky blue, reflecting his face, then lighter and lighter, electric blue.
It could've been Galtrand, glowing and pulsing. It could have been this.
He stiffened as a band of red, curving, moved past them, underneath them, glowing. He stumbled into the middle of the boat.
"The snake! The snake!", David pointed down into the lake as waves of water pushed the boat back.
"No matter", Rickman pushed the paddle again, faster, and again. "As long as we hurry, we'll make it. No matter."
"The snake's down there, let's hurry, or... or...."
"No, no, we'll reach it, a few more, a few more paddles, a few more"
"But, we..."
The red band extended out of the water. A head reached out, eyes appeared, and he shrunk away.
"No, but-", the boat shook, rocking, it turned, and he fell into the lake. The water stung, and the sea swept into his eyes. He thrashed blindly about until bubbles erupted from his constant sinking.
Falling into the cold water, he tried to go up. His legs kicked, swimming upwards. His head erupted out of the water.
Water extended miles away. Waves of water whipped him around. His legs thrashed and he managed to keep his head afloat.
He kept himself moving against the waves. He'd never swam before, but he was keeping afloat. He breathed in long bursts, away from his wheezing of before. He turned, his arms moving with him. The boat had gone, and the water had glowed brighter, filling the sky with blue. The currents raged, he heard the sound of water, displacing itself. The serpent was in the depths. His legs kicked, but the current pushed him backward. The water stung his eyes, and he squinted. Something blue, it rose from the ocean foam and up.
The snake. Large and the eyes almost as big as the moon. Teeth, the size of a column of rock, but he only saw the head. The glowing head of a serpent extended into the depths of the lake.
He tried to swim away, but his clothes dragged him down. He tried to take them off, and let them drop, but he felt himself sink. The water ran up his nostrils, his eyes ran red.
The serpent rose and massive waves a hundred times taller than him rose. He bobbed in the water and tried to swim away. But the waves pulled him into the sea. The shrieking of wind and clouds erupted in his ears. He thrashed and tried to go up, but instead, he flipped upside down. The serpent rose slowly again. David saw what was around him. Cold, desolate, ocean. No ground. It got darker while he sank. He went up, but the bag weighed him down. He watched the serpent swim closer.
He tried to paddle upwards. He took off his bag, but it wouldn't come off. He struggled and stopped.
The serpent's mouth opened and revealed the two fangs. He kicked away, his legs forcing it's way up onto the surface. Bubbles rose as the water filled his lungs. The darkness enveloped him, and he tried to swim away. But, the serpent moved and he tumbled into it.
He thrashed and tried to take his bag off. But, it stuck to him. Light, a lantern, red and orange, a flame.
"Bernard!" Water spilled onto him from everywhere, into his mouth, into his eyes. He spat it out and tried to dry his eyes with his sleeves. "Darrell!"
No one...It was useless now... The water grew warm, with the lantern, he saw red all over. He looked up. His arms relaxed into the water and sank.
An arm reached out and grabbed him. People. Four of them in the boat, battered with dents, smashed, and damaged from impact. He reached out and gripped the driftwood. A lantern balanced in the middle.
"David?"
His eyes blinked. It was Bernard, Osmond, and Darrell. The water lapped up, and onto the driftwood.
"Yes, it's-", David sputtered water,"-me. It's me."
"The snake's swallowed us and now we're here", Bernard looked around, into the wide expanse of blue and red, "Now we're here..."
Rickman looked away from him, holding a fragment of a paddle close to his chest, the remnant splinters diverging from his chin.
Darrell's face filled itself with a scowl. He'd gotten into the middle of the boat, staring into the floor of the boat.
"Now, we're here. In the most vulnerable spot, here in the darkest of places. I've seen the soldiers' wave swords, all of them. Remember that uniformed man? With that insane leer, challenging and challenging, with that battered helmet and the symbol carved everywhere. He was my captain. Cooked most of the food, bandaged many of the wounded, bought most of the weapons. And I killed him! I killed him! I stabbed him through, and left him to die!"
"He was mad", Bernard said, "Mad and insane, gone forever, he'd been there for years, growing a beard."
"I remember he'd lost something... Something... He set out to find it and disappeared. Nobody found him after that. Then, I killed him. He was helpless in the mind and I killed him... "
"He attacked us with every fiber bent on destroying us... Changed and gone."
"Helpless to the forces, to the Nalrath! Why did I go on this trip?.... This horrible, horrible trip."
"Nothing wrong with the trip, we'll get out. No matter what, we'll get out of the snake."
"Not much now that we're in this serpent. Then the driftwood will get waterlogged, or we die of the cold."
"Then, we wait. The Prophet will arrive soon. He stands atop Pnoaphales like a ruler."
"The plague's better than all of this. Dogs beat. Horses shot. Thievery. But, it pales to drowning in the unknown, where none shall know of our deaths."
"Calm yourself. We wait and sit...", Bernard answered. The water made the driftwood bob up and down. The driftwood floated along the inside of the serpent. The lantern flickered. David shivered. It grew colder.
He could see glowing, up ahead, an aura of yellow and red, and the waters were shimmering with the same color.
A fog seeped in from the snake, covering them in a shroud of red. Down upon the wide belly of the snake, wider than him, wider than the boat, as big as a cave, wider than the biggest ship.
He felt small compared to the utter magnificence and grandiose of the serpent, with its belly of fire. The fog covered the water, crippling them of their sight. He couldn't see. His hands waved over the fog, almost getting it away. But it remained.
Getting warmer now, he looked below him. The water bubbled, with heat. Deeper into the snake, the hotter it got... He wiped his forehead and looked into his hand. It glistened with sweat. He couldn't think straight, his eyes fluttered. He leaned against the boat.
A wavering reflection looked back at him. He watched it go away as the boat moved backward from it. Again, the boat split the water, the waves went away on both sides. Again, the boat moved. Rickman pushed the paddle into the water, grunting, and then did it again.
"Let me help. I have the strength to do it. You've been paddling all day", Bernard stood up.
"I was dumb when I didn't listen to your friend."
"But we'll get out of the serpent. This, I'm sure of."
"I can paddle still."
Bernard nodded and sat down.
"Fine, but tell me when the time comes and we should move the boat together."
"That, I will."
Rickman continued and then stopped.
A whirlpool of red had formed below them. Rickman held the fragment of the paddle close to his chest and then placed it down. He pushed it forward, past the whorl. The boat jolted down, and then up as it swam the curve.
Shapes formed ahead of him, covered by the fog. As they moved closer, he saw islands. Each of them was swallowed by the snake. Mounds of sand, piles of them, islands of rock, all clinging to the belly of the snake. Each covered with the green of kelp, the shells of oysters, and barnacles. Fish swirled, swam, moved under the boat, each shining their scales at them.
The small islands shifted as everything began rotating. The boat turned, steadying itself on the waves, turning as the serpent swam. Then waves arrived, tall, like snow-capped peaks. A series of waves ran down the curved wall of the serpent's belly, increasing in height as it built up momentum. Foam crashed onto the deck, almost sweeping David overboard.
He hung on. The boat shook, curving, bending. Moving still, continuing, but shuddering violently. He heard something crack, the noise of wood splintering, splitting into halves. He bent his head down as the roar of the waves engulfed his ears. He leaned against the floor of the paddyboat as another wave shadowed them all. He hung on as his body curved, colliding with the wall of the boat as the wave engulfed them.
The boat ran up along the sides again, colliding with the serpent's belly, into the water. He turned with the boat, going underwater. He regained his hold, clambering onto the boat.
David wiped foam from his face. He spat water out and looked up to see Rickman still paddling the boat, Osmond hanging on, and Darrell clinging to the side.
Bernard had gone. He turned around. A hand clung to the side of the boat.
He grabbed it, hauling Bernard onto the boat.
His head slammed backward. The waves rose again, higher, sweeping the boat upwards along the waves. They launched into the air, turning with the serpent's belly. The boat twisted into the water. Quiet, all quiet, as the waves crashed from up high into down low.
They were going down. Down. He fell with the others. From the sky, then into the sea. He saw his arms flail as the ground grow closer. Falling! He looked around rapidly, turning through the air. Water lashed out. He looked down, spinning through the air. Fog faded past him. Down he fell. Falling! Falling!
Into the warm water, the impact stung him as he sank. He floated up numbly afterward. Facedown. Looking at the serpent's veins, throbbing, pumping. Everything below lay as a flashing blur
A piece of wood, debris, floated past him. With dark arcs, valleys of water, and smells of dry leaves and salt. He hung onto it. His numb hands barely held it...
He weakened his grip on the plank. His face went underwater, and he rose upwards. He almost went down, but he stopped himself. His muscles ached. He dreamt of warmth.
David looked up at the red flesh of the serpent's stomach. Looking up as he traveled along the serpent's belly. Looking up as blurs danced across his vision. Looking up as water leaked into his ears.
A horrible, horrible journey it'd been into the lake. Just as Darrell had said. If he'd known before, then he would've survived. No more fishing boats, no more water, no more of the world of water, no more of the mysteries in the sea he'd wanted to see. It'd left him crippled on a piece of wood; it'd left him waiting for death; it'd left him helpless to the sea. Killed them all, left them as corpses, left him to boil alive inside the serpent's belly.
But he wanted it from empty wishes and empty dreams. Empty things, his youth, his youth as hollow as a rotting log. He'd wished... Useless... Useless youth... He had remembered fishing, but had never gone into the water...
He'd gone because of his youth.... Useless... Useless youth... He'd wished... But he'd continue for the Prophet... Something else.... He needed something else.... Something new. Something....
The heat made his skin peel, he saw it. Wrinkling his fingers. Then, turning white as he tried to squeeze life into them.
He tried to launch himself onto the plank again, but it sank underneath the water. Heavy, sinking with him. Sinking.
His head dipped under the water. Bobbing up and down as he floated. Down onto the snake's stomach. His ears popped; his hearing whizzed away; blurry, everywhere. His hands reached forward, but water everywhere. Expanding past him, everywhere, water, water. His lungs burned, burned with blue fire, burned in the water. It numbed his tongue. His body turned, rotated in the water as he tried to get to the surface. But he reeled in the water.
Vicious fire wracked his body, it crushed his bones, taking his breath away. His breathing grew labored. Each one like a slab of stone pushed across a sheet of bronze, scraping the shine away until only dullness came through. His mind filled with dancing lights, dashing colors, each traveling across his vision.
His arm reached out onto the surface for a hold, a wall, a ladder. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Dead, a corpse, bloated from the water. He sank. Heavy, everything was heavy, heavy... Everything seemed hot as the sun. Inside the flames, he was, burning inside the inferno.
Things floated past him, above, wooden chests, woolen bags, everything. Silhouettes against the light above. Bobbing up and down, past his writhing, past his sinking, past his drowning.
His body burst with adrenaline, it rushed through him, energy, making him shiver. Still dark, but with increasing light, a point as bright as the sun. Fading away though, fading faster, distancing itself, gone, only the dark. Pitching, yawing, leaning, tumbling. Nor did he see, none, he thought. With heavy hands, he brought himself, he did, into the...
His skull ricocheted off something, something heavy, hollow. Hands grabbed his shoulders; he felt himself get carried out of the water.
Water ran down his arms, his eyes flashed open. A red stomach, wrinkled and throbbing with veins. He stared.... Then he spat water from his lips.
The board of wood went still with him, hanging onto his hand. He dropped it into the boat.
Bernard, Rickman, Osmond, Darrell. All of them alive, neither bloated, nor dead and pale. All watching him stir.
They parted, Rickman paddled the boat against the current. Bernard murmured a welcome to him, a soft greeting. Then, he went up, pulled by Bernard. He swayed a little, his head turned back, twisting. He steadied and looked ahead.
The light had grown, expanded, enveloped the water with yellow. The red had faded away, replaced by white. His eyes squinted for a clearer view.
He turned to face away from the light, into the journey ahead, into the capacious waves. Rickman's paddle moved forward, the boat turned, bumping into the snake. Rickman tried to move it onward with a larger push. But the water rushed past him, slamming the boat against the snake, squeezing it. He heard something splinter. Rickman's paddle, the handle, gone. Only a fragment left.
The boat shook in the water. He lay down against the boat, blurry, grey, getting darker as his eyes closed. Light fragmented, shattered, as his eyelashes mashed against each other.
Then into sleep.
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